Somewhere along the line, Zetsu had erased his single psyche and replaced it with a dangerous fine line between keen brilliance and treacherous insanity. Like a saber balancing, he balanced between the light and dark marked his dual-toned face, always careful not to sink under, always careful to maintain that precarious balance. He would inevitably go under, but that day would be reserved for when in battle against a worthy opponent. That man he would deem worthy to see the dangerous boiling undercurrents he possessed unleashed, and to fight against his manifested insanity.

When he was young, Zetsu had enjoyed pretending he was manifold. Years later, he had finished consuming himself in his many lives and lies, now choosing to consume others with a vengeance. If Itachi was the dangerous burning sun of the Akatsuki then Zetsu was the insidious black hole of their strange galaxy, luring and consuming. Like a fly trap, innocuous until approached, Zetsu usually let his opponents make the first attack. He watched them first like a cat would watch a doomed mouse, and enjoyed the struggle of his victims as he defeated them and then ate them afterward if possible. He was, in many ways, more animal than plantlike, and more animal than human.